


Splendours

by tajador



Category: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:34:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24457531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tajador/pseuds/tajador
Summary: He touches Kalim in his daydreams, with his fingers, with his tongue.Jamil finds himself with others, only to think of the one he won't let himself have.(Written before The Great Revelation of EP4, beware of characterization innacuracies.)
Relationships: Kalim Al-Asim/Jamil Viper
Comments: 7
Kudos: 124





	Splendours

**Author's Note:**

> (DUMPS THIS STORY HERE BEFORE SCARABIA CHAPTERS END AND MY PERSPECTIVE ON THEIR DYNAMICS GETS DEBUNKED)
> 
> UPDATE: I GOT DEBUNKED AND I SHIP THEM MORE THAN EVER NOW BUT PLEASE ENJOY THIS OUTDATED PERSPECTIVE

Younger, older, shorter, taller, it didn't matter — None had eyes as deep a crimson, smiles as blindingly sincere.

Rugged hands up his neck, soft fingers along his jaw, tipping his chin up. They enjoy being looked at, these people who change night after night, blurs in Jamil's memories, moments where he wasn't truly there, at least not with them.

They were nothing like Kalim, nobody could ever be, and it's why Jamil is with them. They were no one — No one he could hurt, no one who could truly hurt him — Not the way Kalim did with his fleeting touches, fingertips brushing against his, head resting on his shoulder, always there, but in a different world.

_Lords will be lords. Servants will be servants._

They tell him to get naked, and he does, having no reason to hide anything from people he would forget, who would be nothing but strangers greeting him in the palace halls thinking he knows them. They ask about this scar, that burn, this bruise, that marking. They don't know him.

Kalim would know each answer, each reason, each memory. His heart would break, his lips would tremble, knowing each injury is his, _would be his_ had Jamil not been the one to stand between Kalim and the world.

They taste of arak and figs, others of turmeric and saffron, some of the most sickeningly aged cheeses. They kiss him and he's with someone else, wondering what Kalim tastes like — He should know, taste-testing whatever comes across his salvers and cups — but Jamil wants to know not only his mouth, but his fingers, neck, stomach, thighs. Devouring him, feeling him writhing under his lips.

Only he won't. He can't.

Kalim had asked him, once.

 _Do you know what kissing is like?_ Jamil didn't answer.

 _Do you want to kiss me?_ Jamil walked away.

He hated that his answer to both was _Yes_. He didn't want to kiss anyone else. He had to do it to stop himself, a different person under, over him every other night so that his tongue wouldn't dance with Kalim's, knowing it would be their last, that not a trace of the Viper household would be left in the palace would a servant's lips be found pressed against the young heir's.

They do what they want with him, and he does what he wants with them. It's not enjoyable, but it's never unpleasant. Eyes closed, vivid sights behind his eyelids, Jamil thinks of Kalim. Recalling the texture of his palms, the scent of plums fragrant in his hair, his alluring silhouette in the bath waters. He touches Kalim in his daydreams, with his fingers, with his tongue, over his hips, between his legs, within his insides. 

It's Kalim's name that's on the tip of Jamil's tongue each time currents of pleasures wash over him, short-lived delight, seconds where he believes it true only for his beating heart to grow steady, his breathing to quiet, his eyes to open and meet someone whose name he could not whisper, whose face he does not know.

A few formalities and he slips back into his garbs, a moment in front of a mirror to wipe a smear of makeup away and braid strands of hair disheveled from his frolicking, and he returns to Kalim's side.

Kalim who sees in him a reason to smile, to laugh, to wrap his arm around Jamil's waist, to walk side by side, scents and sights and touches all too familiar. 

"Kalim."

"Yeah?" Kalim looks up at him, eyes that could see right through him, should they want to. "What is it~?"

"Nothing." Jamil crosses his arms, but lets himself be held as they walk across the palace gardens.

_I just wanted to say your name._

**Author's Note:**

> thank you ;_; you can find more stories & thoughts on my twst twitter: [@mrromrro](https://twitter.com/mrromrro) ♡


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